Artemis Fowl Extraordinaire
by Bella Leux Bazireth
Summary: Artemis has been, as he rightly thinks, banished by his parents from Ireland. He embarks on a journey to a new country where he will attend a prestigious new academy, where he must learn to swim with the sharks or be eaten alive...
1. Prologue

Artemis Fowl Extraodinaire

By Adore A. Bell

In the back seat of a maroon Bentley sat a boy, staring fixedly at his wireless laptop screen. He leaned slightly as the car made a slight turn to face the gates that shielded Fowl Manor from the rest of the world. The manservant in the front seat punched in the access code, and the gates swung inward. The car continued up the oak-lined gravel driveway, which was surrounded by two hundred acres of the pristine green terrain that Ireland was famous for. After some seconds, the car reached the front of the manor. It was an imposing sight. The structure was more castle-like than manor, dating back to the mid-thirteenth century. There the infamous Fowl family had resided since the time of the Crusades.

A veritable giant stepped out of the luxury car and proceeded to open the door for his young charge. After a brief polite thank you, a pale youth stepped out. He was of middling height for his fifteen years, with raven hair and a slight build. Dressed in a three-piece suit he gave off the appearance of a cunning seasoned businessman, who was not at all above the law. His loafers made a crunching sound as he walked across the driveway and into his manor. For this youth was unlike any other boy in the world. How could he be if he possessed a genius that had only been seen since the days of Mozart? This was Artemis Fowl, Junior.

"Mother, father?" employed Artemis as he near bounded up the mahogany stairs, for Artemis never bounded.

"Up here Arty," answered Artemis Senior, our subject's father. The voice seemed to be coming from the terrace, and Artemis made his way there.

A floor later, Artemis had settled himself on a wicker chair besides his parents on the terrace. All seemed to be staring entranced at the picturesque view of Dublin's harbor that could be seen from the terrace. It was many minutes before anyone spoke.

Angeline Fowl, Artemis's beautiful mother, was the first to break the silence.

"Did you have a good term, Artemis dear?"

"Yes, mother. Though I do wish you would stop sending me to that fool of a counselor. I myself have read more psychology books than he," replied Artemis coolly.

" We received you evaluation from St. Bartleby's yesterday," began Artemis senior. "And we were not pleased…." He paused and took a breath. "It seems as though you have some minor social problems, Artemis. The report included such details as that you have no friends you age. You do not socialize. The evaluation even went as for as to say that you do not express any emotions! They say you take no joy, and you do not express sorrow, nor pity for your fellow schoolmates." Artemis Senior's voice has raised itself to persuasive pleading. "Please explain to us _why_, Artemis. What is wrong? Your mother and I want and honest answer, and we believe we deserve one too!"

Artemis looked at his parents with an expression of actual shock, which gradually changed into that of mild disgust. "They do not deserve my respect," he stated, matter-of-factly. "No one at that school can match my intellectual standards. I will not exhaust myself try to conceal the fact that I do not like them very much, if at all." He uttered these last words with the coldness of sharpened ice that sent shivers down his mother's spine.

"Well then Artemis, you leave us no choice." Angeline almost matched her son's tone, completely devoid of emotion. "You will be removed from St. Bartleby's and sent to a new school. Outside of Ireland. Perhaps even outside of Europe. At your new school, your task will be to master your social skills. I do not care about your academics, for I know you already possess three degrees from Oxford, and have lectured there yourself." At the quizzical look resting on her son's face she said, "Yes, I _do_ know about the degrees." She continued, "It seems as though you are bored at St. Bartleby's. It is a wonderful school, but you do not need academics. You need socialization, and I am afraid Bartleby's cannot offer you that. This leads me to tell you of the decision your father and I have already made. I will ask you this Artemis. What country is renowned for its social activity?"

"America," stated Artemis without hesitation. As soon as the word fell from his lips he regretted them. He has a very bad feeling to where this was leading.

"Exactly." Said his mother simply. "Starting next term, you will continue you education in the United States." Horror was etched in every detail of Artemis's pale face.

"It won't be as bad as you think," said he father brightly. "It will be a lovely climate. After all, we are sending you to Los Angeles"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Artemis Fowl sat in his study, brooding. This was not something he did often. He often found solace in the oak-paneled room, with floor to ceiling bookshelves, and five separate computer cubicles. His prized Apple Macs whirred quietly. It was a comforting sound, not unlike the sound of the ocean to most other people. The study was where Artemis usually plotted his dastardly deeds. In fact, Artemis hatched plans to kidnap Captain Holly Short of the LEPrecon unit in this room, and it was in this room that he later built the C Cube. However, Artemis was in no mood to plot. In his gargantuan mind, he was running a very short list of the possible reasons why his parents had made the decision to send him off to the United States, more specifically, Los Angeles. They made absolutely no sense, scoffed Artemis. _Hollywood is the epitome of superficiality, and I do not believe that my parents support superficiality._ _Ah_, he sighed. Artemis did know the answer he was seeking, but he really did not want to come to terms with it. _Hollywood is renowned as a social town. It is said that if you can make contacts in Hollywood, you can swim with the sharks_… Artemis smiled his vampire smile. Hollywood must brace itself, because Artemis Fowl II was a shark with the likes it had never before experienced.

Artemis smiled slowly as yet another idea came to him. He quickly released himself of his carefully held meditative position to research something at the computer. _If I am being sent away from Ireland in order to stymie the continuation of my business practices, I _must_ circumvent this. I will take advantage of the opportunities Los Angeles has to offer_. And with that thought in mind, Artemis buried deeper in his research.

Butler was summoned to the main gallery by Angeline and Artemis Senior. It was three hours before Artemis and he were scheduled to arrive at the airport, where they would catch a flight to Los Angeles. Before they departed, however, the Fowl parents had some specific wishes they wished to impart to Butler.

"Ah, Butler," said Artemis Senior as the bodyguard entered the marble room. He was seated on an ebony sofa with cream-colored upholstery next to his wife. "There are some matters which need to be discussed," he continued, "You are probably wondering why we chose to send Artemis to Los Angeles. Well, where else could we send him? Anywhere else in Europe, anywhere else in the world, Artemis has contacts. I am sure of this, though I possess so empirical evidence. Europe is his home base. In order to change, he must be…cut off, relatively speaking. I believe Artemis never suspected we would send him to the US, let alone Los Angeles. It is probably a shock, a devastating shock and it was meant to be so. St. Bartleby was at the end of their wits with him. Perhaps Los Angeles will be more challenging, and Artemis will have to learn to adapt. But remind Artemis of this: this is not a punishment; he is not being banished. He will simply have to start anew, and thereby reform."

Angeline, silent all the while, now spoke, "And do take care of him Butler. He will need you help, I am sure."

Artemis Senior cleared his throat yet again, " Speaking of care Butler. Your duties remain the same, of course. You will continue to guard Artemis. However, this applies only to those making attempts on our son's life. If he gets into any skirmishes please let him handle them: he needs to learn how to take care of himself," with those last words Artemis Senior, the reformed business man, rubbed his face with his hands, dismissing Butler, and wondered if he was making an enormous mistake.

**LAX Airport, Los Angeles** _Present Day_

Butler and his young charge waited at the rental car parking lot in the shade. Both had been unusually quiet for the entirety of the flight. One was busy plotting to flee from Los Angeles at the desired time. Or at least establish more contacts. The other was inventing pretend situations in which Artemis proceeded to be beaten up without his interference.

A gleaming black Bently pulled up in front of the pair, shaking them from their daydreams, and the attendant hoped out. He opened loaded their bags into the trunk, and held the backseat door open for Artemis. Butler climbed into the front after pressing a generous tip into the beaming attendant's hand.

"Butler, when do you propose we remove ourselves from Los Angeles and make our way to Hong Kong. I have some contacts there with which I would like to meet."

Butler sighed. His charge would not like the next words he was about to utter. "I am sorry Artemis, but that cannot happen. Your parents gave me strict orders to keep you in Los Angeles, and those orders I will carry out faithfully. You will attend Farthing Hills, which of course you know is a prestigious boarding school up to par with St. Bartleby's. There you will share a room with an assigned roommate, and I will take the room across the hall. It has all been arranged. Artemis, it is now foolproof: you will now be forced to become a normal teenager." Both bodyguard and charge silently added, _albeit a normal teenager with a frighteningly high IQ._

Farthing Hills was located in Beverly Hills, and was synonymous with outstanding academies and fabulously wealthy students with their own celebrity status. But this is not unusual, for it _is_ located in Beverly Hills, an exclusive town in the direct vicinity of Los Angeles.

But it was not in Ireland, or even Europe. And this, to tell the truth, made Artemis slightly uncomfortable. He had never liked Americans, being a European snob of ancestral birth. The dealings with Jon Spiro had caused him to look at them with even further disdain. Artemis therefore was completely at a loss of what to expect from his new roommate. Artemis unlocked the door of his dormitory room, located in a stone building on the lush campus, and stepped inside.

There were two beds in the large room, both identical in their furnishings. They were made of dark wood, with comfortable looking mattresses and extremely downy navy blue duvet covers and pillows. There was a large plasma screened television, and DVD player and sound system residing below it in a glass cabinet. Two closets lay on either side of the television. An archway led into a step down study equipped with two great desks, a bookcase and easy chairs. The whole set up was vaguely resembled a hotel suite. Except that there was another boy laying down on one of the beds reading a surfing magazine.

The boy looked up. "Hullo mate, you must be the roommate. My name's Salim Penderfield. What's yours?"

Artemis took a moment to study the other boy. Salim looked to be sixteen, Artemis's own age, and of Middle Eastern descent, though he spoke with a British accent. He had extremely tan skin and dark brown hair that fell shaggily into his dark eyes, surfer-esque. He was of tall stature and his face looked bemused.

"My name is Artemis Fowl the Second. I'm Irish." Artemis stared at Salim with his intense navy eyes, which strangely matched the duvet covers.

"Oh, Irish are you? Yes, I could tell by your accent. Dublin's a great place. Though your hills are weird," Salim smiled, "I'm Egyptain. Well, my mum's Egyptain. My dad's British—he's an Egyptologist. Don't ask me how the hell I ended up in Los Angeles."

Though Artemis was by rule prejudice against most other teenagers, Salim's personality was infectious and Artemis could not help liking him.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three 

It was the official first day of term. To be exact, it was the first morning. Artemis woke promptly at six o'clock, as was his custom. Salim was still buried beneath the mounds of duvet cover, breathing deeply. It was exactly one weeks since Artemis first arrived in Los Angeles. Artemis washed, and carefully dressed in his favorite navy suit. He logged onto his Powerbook, and proceeded to check all his accounts. The process took several minutes. Everything in order, he briefly typed some notes on a new project of his, while simultaneously embezzling 1.5 million US dollars from a Swedish businessman. Letting himself drift into thoughtfulness, Artemis proceeded to recall the past week's events.

The first three days were occupied with arranging his personal belonging, and burglar proofing the room. He went for a drive around Los Angeles and was pleased by the outdoor restaurants in which Butler and he had lunched. These lunches were usually spent outlining the various business opportunities afforded to him by Los Angeles. Later, He strolled along Rodeo Drive and bought another suit. Artemis saw little of Salim. It seemed that the Egyptian boy was very popular among other students. Students that Artemis hadn't met, and not desire to meet. In fact, Artemis had not met a single other teenager. Though he would see them strolling about campus, he never went out of his way to make introductions.

Salim entered the study area. Artemis was so lost in thought that he hadn't even realized the other boy had woken. Salim was immaculately dressed in white collared shirt rolled up at the elbows and unbuttoned at the neck, with a striped tie hanging loosely around his neck. He wore jeans and extremely new looking sneakers, and his hair fell into his eyes.

"What classes d'you have and what's your schedule?" Salim questioned.

Artemis stood up and opened his briefcase. He read aloud. "Junior course assignments: Advanced Placement Calculus, Advanced Placement American Government and World History, Advanced Placement Physics, AP Chemistry, Advanced Placement Chinese, Advanced Placement German, Advanced Placement Latin, Physical Education, and Fine Arts III."

"Bloody hell you're as bad as I am. Overachievers. We're going to be in all the same classes, except art, which I don't take. Well you got me beat. Three languages? God, I can barely handle French, though I speak Arabic fluently." Salim seemed to be talking more to himself than Artemis. Salim looked down at his watch. "Oh God, its 7:30. Classes start at 7:45—we're going to be late." With that Salim picked up a heavily laden brown leather messenger bag. Artemis followed him with his briefcase and black messenger bag.


End file.
